Page 89

“My heart knew it before my head did.” He was stroking his thumb against her cheekbone. It made her want to cry. “When my mother accused you of attacking her, I knew instantly itwasn’t true. My lazy mind got on board then,” he said with a chuckle. “But it made me realize that my feelings for you go deeper than trust.”

“They do?” she asked, the words the barest exhalation, as if speaking too loudly would blow away the feathery blossoms of hope that were beginning to sprout within her.

“They do,” he confirmed. “You must know—and I know I’m remiss for not saying it before now—Emily, I love you.”

And Emily burst into loud, noisy tears.

Benedict looked like he was on the cusp of apoplexy.

“What!” he yelped. “No, Emily, darling—it isn’t bad! It’s fine if you don’t feel the same—well, not fine, I’d prefer if you did, of course—but you needn’tcry?—”

“Of course, I love you too,” she said through her tears. “I’m just so happy I can hardly stand it.”

“You do?”

“I do,” she sobbed.

“And so you’re crying,” he muttered apparently to himself. “I shallneverunderstand women.” Even so, he let her sniffle through her reaction for as long as he could bear—which was,ultimately, not very long indeed—before gathering her against him again.

“Come now,” he soothed. “Enough of that.”

Slowly, she managed to get herself under control then shot her husband a watery smile. “I love you,” she said again, feeling that he deserved to hear it while she wasn’t dampening his jacket.

“I love you, too,” he repeated. “Now, come here, would you?” He grabbed her—withbotharms—and tried to hike her onto his lap.

“Benedict, your shoulder!” she exclaimed.

“Fuck my shoulder,” he said, settling her astride him. “I have more important things to worry about.”

And then he kissed her soundly until arguing with him was the furthest thing from her mind.

EPILOGUE

“Whoever decided that weddings have to be boring?” Amanda groused as she watched her twin exit the church with her new husband to the customary polite smattering of applause. “If I were organizing things, they’d be a great deal more fun.”

“Rose had a nice time as did Mr. Cartwright. By the by, remind me to be present for every single second of your wedding planning,” Emily remarked mildly as she beamed at her little sister, who practically glowed with happiness.

Amanda (who was at least offering some light clapping of her own) snorted.

“Don’t hold your breath. I havenointention of following you and Rosie down the aisle anytime soon, no matter how much the two of you look so sickeningly happy all the time.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘sickening,’” Emily retorted as the guests at the very rear of the church began to shuffle about, gathering their possessions and preparing to leave. As family to the bride, she, Amanda, and Benedict were in the frontmost pew and would not have room to depart for some time yet. Emily wasn’t worried; even if Rose and the besotted Mr. Cartwright beat them to Moore Manor, where the wedding breakfast was set to be held, the staff had everything well in hand.

“I would,” Amanda returned with feeling. “The other day, when Rosie and I were over to tea, and you were all—” She affected a high falsetto that Emily felt wasnotan authentic representation. “‘Benedict is so wonderful; he’s such a good husband; I adore him so much.’” She gave a full body shudder. “Repulsive.”

Benedict, who towered easily over Amanda, stuck his head into the conversation. “I’d love to hear more of this, little sister; please, go on.”

Of all the things that Emily had not expected from her marriage, top of the list was perhaps the quick rapport that had blossomed between her husband and her most mischievous sister. Given the way Emily and Benedict had come together, this could have been a situation rife with jealousy or awkwardness, but instead, the two had fallen into such an easy sibling relationship that it was hard to imagine they’d ever interacted in any other capacity.

Or, rather, itwouldhave been hard to imagine if Amanda didn’t remind Benedict of it endlessly, hoping to make him flustered. It had worked once or twice, but once he’d figured out her game,he’d started merely giving her an imperious, arched eyebrow in response.

Amanda found this perfectly hilarious.

“Pff, no,” Amanda told him dismissively. “Your ego is quite big enough, thank you very much. You don’t need any help from me.”

He frowned at Emily. “I think my ego is fine.”

“It is,” she reassured him.